Through the Forest and the Trees
by Rosebud1
Summary: Dumbledore forces all the Professors to go on a retreat. SS/HG. Response to a WIKTT challenge.
1. The Joys of Camping

[The Joys of Camping]

Wafts of pine, alder, and cedar invaded his senses.  Already his skin was on fire.  He could fell the hives welting as he pondered his current predicament.  

_And what the bloody hell is that infernal buzzing?_

Smack.  Smack.  Smack.

Well, now that is pleasant.  Nice red handprints to match the poison ivied blotchy skin.

"It's the quiet one's you have to watch out for."  A sickeningly cheerful voice broke through the still night.

Turning with a start, wand drawn, he sneered and turned back to his misery.  It was only _her_, the chit of a girl who would simply not leave Hogwarts.  The girl who was the bane in his existence, thorn in his bruised backside from sitting on the sharp, pokey, brittle, splintering, uncomfortable log.  Log, yes, log.  In the middle of nowhere.

Actually it wasn't nowhere.  He actually knew where he was; stuck in muggle America, New Hampshire to be exact, in a forest, in July, freezing his arse off.

"I can't fathom what your unnecessary ramblings could mean," he toned out in irritated silk.

This must be the gods' idea of a cruel joke, because obviously years of facing the cruciatus just was not enough.  No, now he was sentenced to hell on earth in some gods' forsaken forest with only his wand, wit, and gaggle of irritatingly enthusiastic colleagues.  One of which was the silly little bint that had the audacity to sit next to him.

"The mosquitoes.  The males flit around noisily, warning you of their intentions, while the females silently devour."

He refused to respond, instead he growled as he remembered Albus' words from the previous week.  

'_A retreat, Severus – to foster goodwill amongst the professors and to welcome Professors Wexler and Granger.'_

No amount of refusal, argument, begging, or pleading would change the Headmaster's mind, because he had tried.  Impetulently, he had even asked why Binns didn't have to go.

'_Be a good sport, Severus, and you know very well, he and Rowena are on their honeymoon.'_

He snorted at the thought.  Muggleborns, giants, werewolves.  _Don't forget Death Eaters, Severus._  What's next ghost children?  Then his life would have really come miserably full circle.  He would truly have first years haunting every waking and sleeping moment.

But now sitting in the dark, freezing to death was testament to his failure.  And the Granger girl was still sitting next to him.

So, you see this is all her fault.  If she would have gone and taken a nice little boring job at the Ministry like a good little witch his arse would not be frostbitten now.

He was jolted from his overly melodramatic thoughts because _she was touching him_.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, turning towards her sharply.

She looked at him nonplussed and stated simply, "bug."

He sneered, wanting to wipe that smirk off her face, not holding back his acid tongue.

"Yes, you're doing a right good impression of a pest, but would you kindly refrain from pawing at me."

Well that did it.  At least that smirk was no longer there, but was replaced by…_oh shit, Severus.  You pissed her right off._  Even in the moonlight he could tell her face was flushed with anger.

"My pleasure," she replied in controlled anger, flicking the night crawler she had extracted from his cloak, hitting him squarely in the nose.  She pushed herself up from the makeshift bench and strode away muttering obscenities under her breath.

"I assure you, Professor, I do indeed have a father and he carries no bestial tendencies," Snape yelled out to her lamely, as she was already out of sight.

But not out of mind.

Wearily he picked himself up and made his way back to the, he shuddered, _campsite_.  Every muscle screamed in protest – every muscle.

"Fine time for you to make and appearance," he grumbled.

_You never really gave me a reason to._

"Now is not the time and she is most definitely not the woman."

Interesting that you brought her up, as well as me - with the thought of her.  Me thinks thou doth protest too much.

"Brilliant.  Now you're quoting the Bard.  Do shut up."

Not on your life, now that you've awakened me.

"I did no such thing."

If you say so, but I'll be a little teapot if you haven't ravished her by the end of the week.

"Well, tip you over and pour you out."

I do hope so.

Snape released a frustrated growl.  It's official.  Call St. Mungo's.  Have them set aside a nice padded room, because sane people don't have nice long conversations with the throbbing flesh pressing against the constraints of their trousers.

"Severus, are you alright?"

Snape whirled around to the voice of the headmaster, who was wearing a grotesquely warm and fuzzy flannel dressing gown.  Must he wear the matching nightcap as well with its fluffy tassel?

"Fine.  Remind me to extend my thanks to you for inviting me on this little fete," the potions master hissed.

Dumbledore smiled, "That won't be necessary.  Seeing as how I didn't give you much of a choice."

"No, you didn't"

"You were being quite unreasonable, Severus.  Short of having Professor Granger place you in one of her expert body binds and a mobilcorpus…" the older wizards words trailed off.  "You're here now.  That's what is important.  I do hope you'll try to enjoy yourself."

There was a long silence.

"Have you seen Ms. Granger by the way?

"No," he answered too quickly.

Dumbledore smiled again.  "Extraordinary young woman:  brilliant, beautiful, charming.  Wouldn't you agree, Severus?"

"Not in the least, Albus."

"I think young Professor Wexler would disagree with you on that.  Seems quite taken with her already."

That earned a grunt from the formidable potions master.  "Lucky them," he muttered.

Before the headmaster swept off to his tent he turned back to Snape.

"Have a good evening, Severus.  I'm sure everything will be better in the morning."

"Not bloody likely."

"You wouldn't want to miss out on a good thing."

"What are you talking about, Albus?"

"Nothing.  Nothing at all.  How was Ms. Granger this evening?"

"You sent her after me," Snape accused.

"Actually, _she_ asked where she might find you, but she mustn't have been successful, since you say you didn't see her."

Snape made a noncommittal sound.

"That's too bad, but there's always tomorrow, right?"

"Humph."

Standing before the tent, well if you can even call it that.  He sneered in disgust.  It was nothing more than tarp on a pole.  Not even a proper wizarding tent with the comforts of home.  No, it was muggle all the way.  Regimental surplus.  Throwback from the muggles' First World War.  At least it was green.

He stumbled in the dark and came crashing down on a definitely male body.

"What are you doing in my tent," Snape growled.

"_Our_ tent.  I take it that Dumbledore left out that little tidbit."

"Get on you own side, Wexler.  I may have to share a tent with you, but I have no intention of cuddling."

"Right-O, Sev."

Severus' stomach roiled.

"My name is Severus, Snape, or Professor.  Never _Sev_," he ground out.

"Sure thing."  Awkward silence.  "Hermione looked lovely tonight, don't you think?  Do you know if she has a beau?"

"Why would I concern myself with Ms. Granger's romantic entanglements?"

"No reason.  Thought you might know.  You have known her for nearly ten years.  Suppose I'll just ask her in the morning."

10 years.  Had it really been that long?  He added the years quickly in his head.  Seven at Hogwarts and two and a half split between university and Vector's apprenticeship.  She was but a mere slip of a girl when he'd first set eyes on her, but now.  She definitely was not a little girl any more.

"Now that you mention it, I recall Minerva saying she is engaged."

_Where the hell did that come from, Severus?  Jealous?_

"Who?"

_Who?  Fuck!  _

"Someone she met at school."  _Wishful thinking, Sev, ol' boy?_

Wexler considered Snape's revelations and rolled over.  "Oh well, plenty other pixies in the sky.  She is quite the gorgeous creature though.  Too bad.  Goodnight, Sev…er, Severus."

Severus growled something resembling 'yeah' and rolled over onto his stomach, evidence of Hermione's effect pressing into the hard ground beneath him; idly wondering how it would feel to have her soft, warm body pressing, writhing against his.  _That's what dreams are for, Severus._  

Where were these thoughts coming from?  Inappropriate, wrong, and oh so pleasing and delicious to the mind.  It is decided he was going mad and Hermione Granger was the catalyst.

Not like she is interested.

She could be.  She did come to sit with you tonight.

And I dismissed her like the stupid git that I am.  Well done, Severus.  Well done indeed.

There's always tomorrow, Severus.

Yes, maybe tomorrow would be better, he thought, and then slipped off to sleep.

He was sitting on the log near the lake.  The scent of pine weighing heavily through the night, but it did not seem to bother him.  It was relaxing and tranquil watching the rippling water.  A sliver of crescent moon swayed amongst a sea of stars.  A beautiful night by anyone's standards.  Even the chill in the air did not seem so cold.  

Absently he swatted his arm and became instantly aware of a rustling of leaves just behind him.  He didn't turn; didn't have to.  He would know her scent anywhere.  It reminded him of the breakfasts his nanny made him as a youth.  Sweet, sugary, and soothing.  Brown sugar and cinnamon with a hint of vanilla.  If he could bottle her aroma he could make a fortune, but he would never do that, because he didn't want to share her with the world, just wanted her all to himself. 

He wanted to come home from a particularly difficult day of work and see her laughing eyes looking up from a book in her lap and looking only at him, smiling, just for him – to wash away all his annoyance, because she could do that.  Her ability to sway him was an inherent power that she wielded to perfection.  She could make him believe love wasn't a crime.

"It's the quiet one's you have to watch out for," she whispered, sitting close beside him.

"Hmm?"

"The mosquitoes.  While the males like to make their presence know, like all males like to do," she laughed, "the females attack their victim silently and unseen.  Before you know it they're gone and taken a bit of you with them."

"And should I watch out for you?" he queried softly.  She'd clearly taken a bit of him already.

Her brown eyes flashed gold, like a cat in the dark.  "Oh yes.  You definitely should watch out for me, but fair warning, I'm afraid I devour my prey quite vocally."

Her small hand came up and pulled him down to her mouth.  Hot, wet, passionate, and desperate kisses warmed their limbs on the cool night.  His arms grabbed her waist, pulling her astride his lap.  Hard pressure rubbed against her thigh.  She cupped his face with her hands, tangling slim fingers into his hair.  A soft whimper escapes her mouth only to be absorbed by his own as his tongue wraps around hers.

A faint chirp of crickets could be heard in the background, but all sound and awareness; except for their own was lost.  Hurried feet and faster talking of the London Underground wouldn't have been able to distract them.  They were transfixed by each other, hopelessly.

"Mmm, Hermione."

"Severus."

"You're so bloody hot, Hermione.  You're burning up."

And that was only the truth.  She had been enough to melt his icy exterior that most steered clear of.  She saw him as a challenge, like the few that endeavored Everest.  Few attempted and even fewer succeeded, but she had.  With a slight touch of her hand she had thawed the heart he had long forgotten.

"Severus."

"You like that, don't you, Hermione?"  He asked, cupping her breasts, rubbing his thumb in pressing circles, as they lay heavy in his hands.  You feel so good."

"Don't stop," she cried, arching into his touch.  Squeezing her thighs against his hips he hissed as her sweet warmth crashed against his increasingly painful erection.

"Severus."

"Hermione – I love you," he told her with no hesitation.  The truth of his words emblazoned in his darkening eyes.  They held so much emotion that she had taken for granted before.  

"I love you too, Sev."

Sev?  She never called him Sev, at least not yet.

Slowly his surroundings started to fade and he desperately tried to hold onto Hermione, pleading with her fruitlessly not to leave.  They always left after you told them you loved them.

He opened his eyes and was confronted with reality; one without Hermione nipping at his neck, but one with Jude Wexler hovering over him like an eager vulture, grinning madly like a Cheshire cat.

"Sorry to wake you.  Must have been some dream you were having.  Pleasant one considering the wicked grin you had playing against you face."

Snape growled.  "Then why did you find it necessary to wake me if I was obviously enjoying it."

"Normally I wouldn't have, but you were…er, moaning – rather loudly.  And it seemed to be starring a certain colleague of ours.  An engaged one.

Snape sneered.  He should have under normal circumstances been mortified, but he did not really care.  At the moment his only thought in the world was to go back to sleep and hopefully recapture his dream.  He could almost imagine Hermione's legs snaking around him and he smiled faintly.

"So, the Potions Master is in love with the Arithmancy Professor."

Snape fixed him with a death glare, but Wexler somehow seemed to be impervious.  I must be losing my touch.

"I have said no such thing."

Wexler let out a hearty laugh causing Snape to shudder.  "But you did," he laughed, "Repeatedly and quite vocally."

The muggles studies professor straightened up and altered his voice to a low murmur that almost matched Severus' silky drawl.  " 'Hermione…you like that, don't you…I love you,'" Wexler mocked.

Snape winced and brought his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, attempting to banish the forming migraine.  He had been so careless during his sleep.  Anyone could have heard him.  Someone much worse than Wexler.  He paled at the thought of Hermione overhearing his exultations.  She would run from him as if he carried the plague.

"Do shut up," Snape hissed.

"She's not really engaged, is she?"

"No," he admitted.

"Well, I won't tread on you water, seeing as how you luuuurve her."

Was dueling in a muggle forest a punishable offence?

"How very Gryffindor of you," he derided.  If he had to spend a week in the same tent as this man, one of them would not make it back to Hogwarts alive.

Well, maybe I won't have to share a tent with him.

He smiled faintly at the thought.

I just have to be nice to her.  That shouldn't be too hard.  I can do nice.


	2. If At First You Don't Succeed

[If At First You Don't Succeed]

"Here," she said, shoving a plate of eggs, sausage, and biscuits in his hand.  She looked upon him coolly.  "_Do_ try to choke on it."

Right about know is where he should have been struck with a serious case of hoof in mouth disease.  What was the muggle saying?  If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

Forget that rubbish.  She started it.  He had just been sitting there minding his own business and NOT scowling.  Actually he had been in pretty good spirits that morning and on the verge of enjoying a good day.  He was going to be nice to her.  Was.

"Knowing that you prepared it, I'm sure that won't be too difficult."

Hermione's jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed in on him.

"You are nothing but an arrogant prat.  Good day."

"Same to you."

_Same to you?  _Oh, now that is the most ingenious of comebacks.  Who is the dunderhead now?  Could you not just employ the subtle art of the smile and nod?

"You're going about this all wrong, Severus?"

Snape turned to the muggles studies professor.  "What, pray, are you going on about now, Wexler?"

"Getting the girl."

"I'm not trying to _get the girl_."

"Well then, you are definitely succeeding at that.  What is your next plan of action?  Pull her hair and dip it in an ink pot?"

Snape glared at him.  "No, I thought I would just snap her bra and be done with it," he answered dryly.

Wexler snorted and shook his head.  "Why won't you just admit you like her?"

"I don't."

"Oh, right.  That's because you luuurve her."

The day had started out so nice, birds chirping, sun shining and all that rot, but now he just wanted to go home – to his dungeons and try to forget about the last twenty-four hours.  It was bad enough trying to deal with Hermione, now his new 'best friend' was being more of a nuisance than a house elf working for pay.

"I'm going to the lake.  Maybe I'll drown and never have to see the lot of you again."

Hermione approached as Wexler was laughing and watching Snape stride away.

"Hallo, Jude.  Here you go," she said, handing him a plate of food.

"Morning Hermione and thanks," he gestured with the plate.  "Nice of you to make breakfast for everyone."

"Oh, you're welcome.  Easy enough to make for ten as for one."

"Delicious," he smiled, biting into a forkful of warm, buttery scrambled eggs.

"Yes, well some wouldn't agree," she said and jerked her head towards Snape's abandoned plate of food.

"I'm afraid I am to blame for his lack of indulgence."

Hermione's eyebrow quirked and Jude couldn't help but grin.

"I was teasing him about his pixie.  He's a bit touchy when it comes to her."

"Pixie?" she snorted in disbelief.  "You're telling me Severus Snape has his very own pixie?"

Jude carefully formulated his response.  "He doesn't have her yet, but I'd say he is in the process of obtaining her."

Hermione could only shake her head and wonder if he would have better luck with the wingless blue fairies than Lockhart did.

Jude became instantly distracted as she wrapped her mouth around a plump sausage, sinking her teeth into the browned meat.  Salty juices glistened on her lips and unconsciously Jude licked his own lips.

If Severus wasn't going to make a move, he wasn't going to let a girl like Hermione slip by.  All's fair in love and war, right?  And this certainly would turn out to be both.

Hermione blushed noticing Jude's intense gaze.  She was not used to such careful scrutiny.  She had been so wrapped up in three years of studies and apprenticeships that she barely remembered anything after the leaving feast.  She had never allowed herself to get close enough to anyone since she left Hogwarts.  She could not afford the distraction, but now that she had reached her goal and been awarded with the prizes she had dreamed of, being a professor at Hogwarts, the badge did not seem so shiny.  She felt like she had missed out now.  

What if it was too late now?  Nine months out of the year she would be wiled away in the stonewalls of the castle.  Not very conducive for a romance.  There had been a cornucopia of males to choose from at university, but now at Hogwarts there were only two that were even remotely eligible.  One it seemed detested her above all and the other couldn't keep his eyes to himself.  _This isn't good, Hermione.  You'll waste away in that castle an old maid.  Bitter and alone._

"This is stupid", she chided at herself.  It wasn't too late.  She had plenty of time to find love.  The permanence of Hogwarts just scared her a bit.

"What is?"

Her head snapped up and Jude was looking at her quizzically.  "Nothing.  Just thinking to myself…aloud."  _Brilliant, Hermione.  Better make sure that higher education certificate wasn't signed with a Weasley's invisible quill, because they might consider revoking it._

"Oh, bugger off."

"Are you alright, Hermione?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine."  _Just my thoughts and myself having a little argument.  Nothing for you to be concerned with.  Although you would probably be more interested in the color of my knickers.  Honestly, It's just a sausage.  _"I'm going to go for a walk.  I'll see you later."  She didn't give him time to respond before she made her hasty exit and followed a trail to lake.

The walk to the lake was perfectly acceptable, except for the wayward pinecone he crushed in his wake.  He had a lot of things on his mind as he approached the sandy beach of the lake.  Why couldn't he just say, _Good morning, Miss Granger?  Are you having a pleasant day, Miss Granger?  Can I help you with breakfast, Miss Granger?_  The words were there.  He just couldn't force them out of his mouth.  Maybe it just wasn't in him to _be nice_.  She'd probably be better off with Jude Wexler anyhow; someone that will dote after her and shower her with pretty words.  Words he simply could not make himself say.

Maybe if he did not think of her as Miss Granger the student it would be easier.  Hermione.  Murmured just the right way and it had its own erotic hum.

He crouched down near the edge of the lake.  Maybe it wasn't an entirely muggle forest.  Scooping up a bit of water he tested the temperature.  Surprisingly the water was warm.

The bright, clear day was a far cry form dreary London and Hogwarts.  A smattering of low-lying puffy clouds hung in the crystal blue sky with sunrays beaming behind, looking like a halo of light.  One shard of sun struck across the still lake, blazing it to a pure glass.

He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a relaxing swim or lazed around on a summer day.  Maybe he never had.  The last time he'd stopped to think about his life was the night he received sanctuary from Albus.  After that he had been so grateful for a second chance he felt it selfish to think of his own needs, so he ignored them and at the time it worked for him, or at least he'd been able to distract himself enough to believe so.

Is it wrong to want to be happy?  Would he be betraying Albus if he decided he needed something more?

No, Albus wouldn't see it that way.  He always told him anytime he wanted to leave he was free to do so.  He was never obligated to stay at Hogwarts, but he could never leave – for a number of reasons.

Even from the time of his youth the school had been his safe haven, a place for intellectual growth, a place he and everyone else always felt safe.  And if he were to leave where would he go?  Snape Manor had long been destroyed during Voldemort's first reign, because of his parent's refusal to join.  All that was left were the grounds and he had never had reason to rebuild. 

He was mean and snarky by nature, a built-in defense mechanism that had been put in place shortly after arriving at Hogwarts.  Hurt them before they get the chance to hurt you.

He shrugged off his robes and took a seat on top on them, kicking off his shoes and removing his socks.  He sank his toes into the gritty sand before him and rolled up his trousers a couple of lengths, letting a ripple of water glide over his feet.  The feeling was sensational.  Cool, relaxing, invigorating, and wonderful all at the same time.  Resting his arms on his knees he peered out across the lake and let his mind wander and even wonder to what could be.  He didn't even hear her approach.

She was startled seeing him sitting there – relaxing.  He seemed almost human – with his own likes, dislikes, fears, wants.  He was only human after all.  Really, what had she expected?  The moment she exchanged her standard student robes for Professors' his mindset would instantly change.  That suddenly he would want to be her best friend and take tea with her.  How absolutely delusional.  Or maybe just hopeful.

She had been unrealistic in her expectations, even unfair.  Maybe if she gave him some time he would come around.  One day he might consider her a friend, trust her and confide in her.  One day.

Hermione felt oddly voyeuristic watching him, like she shouldn't be – that this was a private moment, but for the life of her she could not tear her eyes away from him.  Short of Dumbledore no one had probably seen him like this.  So unguarded.  But he wouldn't be if he knew she was there.  She wanted to watch him a little longer.  She would probably never get another opportunity to do so.  Gingerly she shifted her weight and winced as a twig snapped.

His head snapped to attention and focused on her.  He had a mildly confused look in his eyes and for a few moments she couldn't think of a thing to say.

"I'm sorry," she finally stammered, "I didn't know you'd be down her.  I'll leave."  And she turned.

"No," he said quickly, "you can stay…if you like," he finished more slowly.

She nodded somewhat numbly.  "Oh, okay," she heard her own voice say, but she stood there awkwardly.  Not sure what to do.  He said she could stay, but he didn't exactly invite her to join him.  He turned back to the lake leaving her feeling slightly stupid.  She couldn't abruptly leave, he might take it the wrong way, but just standing there was uncomfortable.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she thought she heard him ask and realized he was speaking of the lake.

"Oh, yes.  Very much so," she answered quietly.

"You'll have to speak up a little or come a little closer.  You'll have to forgive an old man.  My hearing is not what it used to be."  She knew what he was saying about his hearing wasn't true.  He had a reputation for hearing the slightest of sounds and sometimes she suspected he could hear her thoughts.

Was that his backwards way of asking her to sit with him?  He hoped she saw it that way. 

She took a seat on the remaining scrap of robes and held her breath, waiting for him to say something, but he didn't.

"You're not an old man," she told him honestly.

"Older than you."

"Most people are."

Was that a laugh she heard from him?  Sounded suspiciously like one.

"I give up.  You win – this time."  There you go Severus.  That was almost nice.

Hermione turned to him and smiled, her own arms resting on her knees.

"Ten points to Slytherin for gracefully accepting defeat."  Now she was definitely positive that he knew how to laugh.  Snape turned himself to face her and smiled.  Not a toothy grin like Jude often gave her, but a simple, pleasant smile.  She wished she had a camera to capture the moment, even better if it was a wizarding one, so that she could look back on this forever, although she was fairly sure she'd never forget it.  How do you forget the moment you when you know your falling in love and falling hard?

"You're dangerous when you smile," she whispered.  He was sure he was dreaming again.  They were almost having a playful conversation, enjoying each other's company.  Must be a dream, but a wonderfully fantastic one.  Wouldn't hurt to indulge.

He didn't say anything.  He didn't have to.  His mouth was making a slow descent to her mouth and everything clicked to slow motion and brilliantly Technicolor.  She had to force herself not to lick her lips in anticipation.  She was within millimeters of brushing her lips against his.  She could almost taste him.  Maybe more than brushing would be in store.  His eyes pinned hers and there were traces of uncertainty.  She wanted this.  Her eyes fluttered shut and she felt the faintest touch of his lips, more like a whisper.  Already she knew it was the sweetest of kisses and they had barely even started.

"There you two are.  Dumbledore has been looking for you both.  He wants us all to go on a nature walk."


	3. The Berlin Wall Rebuilt

[The Berlin Wall Rebuilt]

Wexler looked around, just now noticing them and their positions.  They jumped apart startled by the intrusion.  Hermione's cheeks flamed red, heat radiating.  _I'm an adult!  Why am I acting like I was just caught sneaking out past curfew.  Control yourself, Granger._

"Am I interrupting something?"  Wexler asked.  Not sounding rather concerned or very contrite.

_Yes!_ Snape wanted to growl.  _And I think you damn well know it!_

Hermione answered instead, "No.  We were just…just enjoying the lake."

Wexler gave an appreciative look and agreed.  Their little blue lagoon was very alluring at the moment as Jude eyed Hermione very appreciatively.  A dip in the lake would be a better way to spend the afternoon, especially after seeing the little red bikini Hermione had pulled from her garment bag whilst she unpacked the night before.  She must not have anticipated it being this cold here during the summer, but the water is warm.  Maybe he could cajole her into that scrap of fabric and go for a swim, but alas Dumbledore calls.  

"Well, like I said, Dumbledore wants us all together for that nature walk."

Snape brushed the granules of sand from his feet, rolled his trousers back down, and put his socks and shoes back on.  He did not look at Hermione once as he picked himself up from the ground.  He towered over her and waited, as she was still sitting on his robes.  She started to collect herself, seeing as how he was not offering to help her up, when Jude stepped in and helped her to her feet.  Hermione smiled and thanked him for his consideration with an extra edge that Snape determined was meant for his benefit.  Wexler gave her a spiel of that's what a gentlemen does; looking to Severus it is as if his eyes were saying, 'that's how it's done, old man'.  

He did not like Jude Wexler now, not that he did before.  There was a gleam in his eye that was offering Severus a silent challenge.  Who could get the girl first?  It took all of Severus' self control not to grab Hermione, throw her over his shoulders, and stock off to some secluded cave.  As she accepted Wexler's arm and they started walking back to camp he realized there was no challenge.  Wexler would win, because Severus just was not any good at niceties.

His stomach churned at the thought of Wexler being the one that would be placing kisses on Hermione's electric skin and shagging her senseless.  It wasn't only his stomach that was being disagreeable.  The painful reminder of what happens when Hermione gets too close was straining against his trousers.  It was like she placed him under sexual imperius, because just a suggestive twitch of her lip tossed his mind to the gutter.

_You can't just give up, Severus._

"Joy and rapture.  My insanity has returned."

_I would gladly retreat for a while if you would just indulge me.  Preferably with that little bird._

"And what would you have me do?"

Firstly, rid her of that simpleton twit that flits around her.  Secondly, seduce her.  Make her yours, Severus.

"Easier said than done.  Why would she have me, if she can have him?  He younger, better looking, and…"

Do stop the self-flagellating rant.  Are you daft?  It's amazing we are apart of each other.  You're the one who is supposed to control the brain.  It's obvious she wants you.  She kissed you, didn't she?

"I kissed her."

FINE.  She let you.

"She was being polite most likely."

You're such a downer.  Can you at least go find her so I can have at least a little enjoyment?  Not that you would ever have the courage to do anything other than look.

"Shut up," Severus snapped.

"Who do you want to shut up, Severus?"

Snape stopped dead in his tracks.  Startled to find that he had walked himself into the campsite and was being considered by a very amused headmaster.  The headmaster repeated himself.

"No one," Snape answered, still not too sure of his mental stability.  That's probably what happens when you neglect something for so long.

Snape vaguely heard the headmaster ask if he was ready for the walk, but was distracted by the sight of Hermione and Wexler huddled close together.  They were laughing together.  You could see it in their eyes as they were whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears.  _Too late, Severus.  Too late._  His own mind whispered treacherously.

He felt cold inside.  His body had betrayed him when it let him feel a little warmth.  It doesn't matter he told himself.  It was stupid to believe that she would wait for you to work out your own feelings when she has someone readily available and more than willing to give her what she needs without hang-ups.  He walked past them with only a cold glance in their direction and preceded the professors on the blasted nature walk.

After twenty minutes he realized why he had never partaken in a nature walk before.  While the little jaunt seemed to please Delia Sprout to no end, Severus was bored out of his skull and wanted to be a continent away from Wexler and Hermione's snickering.  He couldn't take much more of this.  How was he supposed to work with the two of them?

This changes nothing, he tried to convince himself, once back at school you'll forget all of this and go back to being the bastard you are.

"Severus, can I have a word with you?"

Severus turned slightly.  "Of course, Albus."

"You'll notice that it is rather dark right now and we have past the same spot three times already."  He hadn't noticed, but nodded anyways.  "It would appear that we are lost."

Big deal.  Whip out your wand, do a location spell, and they would be on their way.  Then he realized there was something Albus hadn't told him and told him as much.

"You see, Severus, to convince the Ministry to let me organize this little adventure I had to make a few concessions."  This was not good.  Not good at all.  He was used to Dumbledore being evasive, but this was beyond that.  He should have known something was wrong when Dumbledore insisted on portkeys instead of apparating.

"So we're lost and can't use our magic."

"Oh, no, Severus.  Yes, we are lost and seeing as how your wand is casting a nice lumos spell our magic does work.  Mostly."

"That's a relief…what do you mean mostly?" Snape asked eyes narrowing like an owl on a night prowl.

"We are permitted to use small spells."

"How small?"

"Second year and below."

Snape was tempted to chuck his wand into the dark forest.  Ludicrous.  Why is this happening to him?

"So we're lost and have been reduced to the magical ability of a prepubescent adolescent.  Bloody fantastic.  You should have told us."

"None of you would have come if I did.  It's not that big of a deal, Severus.  We just need to find somewhere to camp tonight and everything will be better in the morning."

"For once I agree with you, Albus, because come tomorrow morning I'm returning to Hogwarts.  Whether you approve or not."

"I'm afraid you can't do that Severus."

"Are you saying you're going to stop me?"  Snape asked incredulously.  He'd never openly defied the headmaster, but enough was enough and this farce had gone on too long.

"Of course not, but the portkeys are timed for our return and apparating is not a learned component until seventh year.  You'd be splinched if you tried."

Snape was furious, but not with the headmaster.  He was angry with himself for allowing himself to be conned, not protesting more, letting his guard down even briefly.

"I'd rather be splinched than to have to stay in this damned forest any longer," Snape growled.  All the Professors turned toward the potions master and the headmaster.  Snape's end of the conversation was becoming quite loud.  Severus flustered under the attention, although he maintained it well with an impassive face.  "I'm sorry, Albus.  I shouldn't have raised my voice at you."

"It's fine, Severus.  We're all a little out of our element here.  Maybe we should rely on those that have encountered a more muggle way of life.  For example, Professors Granger and Wexler."

"No," was Snape's quick reply.

"Come now."

"I said no."

"I won't push it then."

"That's a first," he derided.

The headmaster smiled and joined Minerva, Sprout, and Flitwick.  From the looks on their faces he just broke the news.

Against his own will, his eyes traveled to Hermione and Wexler who were lounging comfortably against a tree.  How cozy, his mind sneered.  They were speaking in hushed voices, but every once in a while he caught their words.

"You're muggleborn, aren't you, Hermione?"  She never liked that question.  It always seemed to imply more than it was saying.  No matter how much she would achieve, it would always be muggleborn Hermione Granger.

"Yes," she answered tentatively, "Why?"

"So am I and I had this idea.  You've seen…"

"Oh, yes," she laughed.  "One of my favorites.  Hayley Mills was wonderful in that."

"You know that one part, where they're camping?"

"Yes," she enthused.

"I was thinking since we are the resident experts…" muffled words "it could be fun."

"I don't know, Jude."  He made a face at her and she laughed.  "Oh, all right.  Let's do it."

"Great!" Hermione wasn't expecting what happened next.  All she knew was that Jude's mouth was awfully close to hers and the only thing she could do was tilt her head slightly to accept the kiss on her cheek rather than her lips.  Those you saved for someone special.  But from Snape's vantage it looked like a prelude to something more passionate and he couldn't stand it.  No matter how much he tried to deny it, he couldn't watch Hermione with someone else.

Hermione's eyes flicked to him in the darkness.  His face lit by low wand light, but the look of betrayal was etched into his eyes.  Why did this feel like a betrayal?  They made no declarations of undying devotion.  They had shared barely a kiss before, but one that promised more.  It's not what you think, she wanted to say, but she was trapped in the depth of his stare and Jude's closeness was making her uncomfortable now.  She opened her mouth to speak, but the potions master's expression changed.  It was cold and unfeeling like when she was a student beneath his tutelage.  The look said clearly, 'don't bother.'

She sighed and turned back to Jude.  "Shall we get the sticks then?"  Hermione asked unenthusiastically.  This camping trip wasn't fun any longer.  Everything was very confusing all of the sudden and she didn't like confusing.  

"Okay," Jude grinned.  "It'll be fun.  You'll see."


	4. Snape in the Grass

[Snape in the Grass]

Where was Trelawney and her bloody foreseeing eye this morning?  Couldn't one of the gods, founders, or magical beasts have stopped her from making the colossal mistake she had made.  Why had she led Jude talk her into this?  For the same reason she let Ron and Harry lead her around for seven years.

"Because I'm a bloody idiot," she howled into the crisp night blanketed with a silver expanse of stars.

"You're being a bit hard on yourself, don't you think, dear?"

Hermione looked up from her hands and exhaled all the breaths she had been saving up, fighting the urge to release a maelstrom of frustrated tears.

"Not this time, Minerva."  Her former head of house smiled at her kindly.  Minerva had always been like a second mum to her.  Right now she didn't care to have the reproachful mothering look or the kind ear of a friend.  What she really wanted right know was – hell she didn't know what she wanted.  Two days ago everything had been nice and easy.  Now everything was incredibly muddled and confusing.

"Hermione, dear, I'm sure everything is not as bad as you think it is."

Dare she be hopeful?  Maybe only Severus, Jude, Albus, and herself knew what happened.  Was it too much to ask for?  Obviously, yes by the knowing look in Minerva's eyes.  They sparkled just as blue as Dumbledore's when they were not stern in consternation.

"Oh, no, dear," she laughed in her light Scottish lilt.  "I'm afraid everyone knows.  It appears that whatever Professor Wexler lacks in subtlety and discretion he makes up for in his storytelling and acting abilities."

"No," Hermione groaned.  Not good.  Not good at all.  Now all she needed to do was wait for the other proverbial boot to fall because inevitably Severus would seek his revenge.  Vindication would be exact, swift, and well deserved.  Waiting was just the torturous part.

~***~

Severus sat through the first five retellings with great patience.  He deserved an Order of Merlin for that, but if he had to her that snit Wexler wail on one more time, hackling for all of North America to hear he would find a way to hex him right good.  There has to be a loophole to the second year restrictions.  He could – yes, he thought – that would work.  He was a Potions Master after all.  He would get both of them back beautifully with a little help from his newest best friend, Professor Sprout.

"Yes," he smirked with certain smugness, tenting his fingers before him.  "This will work quite well indeed."  His slightly sinister gleam scanned the group and spotted his two unsuspecting prey.  At least she had the decency to look contrite.  He shook his head.  He would not allow her sudden most likely selfish remorse dissuade him form his revenge.  No, she would pay right along with her partner in crime, he promised himself.

He glanced back to Wexler, standing before the licking flames of the roaring pit fire, moving his arms about wildly showcasing his flair for theatrics for Sinistra and once again he listened on with dread as Wexler regaled Severus' tale of woe.  Revenge would be sweet became Severus' new mantra.  He repeated this through gritted teeth until his anger subsided momentarily.

~***~

"Professor Wexler, I think that is quite enough now."  The headmaster looked wearily at the younger wizard and was regretting something for one of the very few times in his long life.  Maybe this little excursion was not such a grand idea.  From the way things were looking Severus would never forgive him for forcing his attendance.  He would be lucky if he ever saw him outside of the dungeons again.  He refused to even consider the thought that he would have to look for another Potions Master.  He could not lose Severus.  They were in definite need of damage control.

~***~

"I was just getting to the best part with Simeon, Albus."  He blew off the headmaster's directive and turned his attentions back to Professor Sinistra, who did not look very amused.  Sinistra actually seemed miffed that he had to sit through another exaggerated recount when there were stars to chart and meteor showers to predict.  Clear, pristine skies were not readily wasted, which it was being now.  Sinistra made to get up, seeing a small opportunity to escape, while Jude was preoccupied with his own inane laughter.

"No, no, Simeon.  You can't leave just yet," Wexler howled with violent fits of laughter, his cheeks red and aching from laughing.  

Sinistra gave a long suffering sigh and glance sympathetically to Severus.  They had always shared a professional respect.  They were cut from opposite sides of the same cloth.  Severus spent his hours holed away in his dungeons, while Sinistra stowed away high up in his towers, scouring the endless skies.

~***~

"Hermione, come help me tell the story."  Jude peered across the campsite and looked imploringly towards Hermione.  She glared at him.  Jude was taking this too far, but she did not know how to get him to shut up.

"No, Jude," she adamantly told him.

Before Jude could talk her into it a voice of smooth silk cut through the increased tension.  She looked at Severus guiltily as he pinned her with his eyes.

"I was never able to shut you up the seven years you sat before me in my classroom, _Hermione_.  Why should now be any different?"

The sharpness of his tongue cut through her.  She had longed for him to use her given name, but know the first time he had used it, it held so much contempt and she wished for his indifferent 'Ms. Granger's' again.

Mucked this up, she thought as she swallowed several hard breaths.  An endless stream of apologies hung on her lips but Snape's endless black eyes willed her words into submission.  

"See, Hermione, Severus wants us to tell the story.  Jolly good story it is too."  

Shut up you great bloody idiot!  Hermione wanted to scream but did not.  She was trapped with nowhere to run to and she had brought this on herself she accepted miserably.

She broke eye contact with Severus and dragged her eyes to Jude.  Her mind screamed for him for him to keep his flaming mouth shut.  Infuriating man.  How could he be so utterly daft?

"No, he doesn't," she seethed through clenched jaws, trying to temper her anger.

"Nonsense," Severus laughed hollowly.  "Stand right her in the center, before everyone and recount with you own lips," Traitorous lips, she thought she heard him mutter, but she could no longer be sure of much of anything.  Her head pounded furiously as blood rushed to her aching temples.  He continued, "Maybe then I'll understand the humor in your little deed."  

He wasn't requesting – it was a command.  He was going to force her to relive how they had humiliated him to everyone and in front of him.  She felt all eyes shift to her and could see the accusing betrayal rolling off of Snape in her direction.  Her cheeks burned warm and her back stiffened as she marched towards the center of the little group.  It was like she had been transported back to a double potions lesson with Slytherin and she had been called up to test her potion.  Why?!?  Stupid, stupid Jude and his damned convincing nature.

_"Here's your chance, Hermione.  Get the git back for all his snarkiness in school."_

That's the exact moment when she should have stopped because she bristled when Jude called him a git, feeling strangely protective of Severus.  She'd shoved the sticks back in his hands, but he refused them, telling them it was just a little joke.  No harm, now fowl, he'd said.  

LIAR!

Severus Snape would not like being the butt of a joke and she knew that and knew that there would only be two results of the little stunt or possibly a mixture of both.  He would either be angry or humiliated and by the looks of it he was heading towards anger.

Slowly he spun her in a silk web with the smooth drawl of his voice, trapping her there until he decided her fate. 

"Please, Hermione."  She melted at the softness he teased her with.  "Indulge me with your rendition.  I would be ever so grateful for your telling."  The deceptive words washed over her and surrounded her with warmth as she ignored the reasoning behind them and let herself pretend he was speaking only to her, whispering silky affections in her ear.

She looked at Severus with determination, forcing herself not to look away from his ensnaring eyes.  She owed him that much.

"Jude and I led you to believe that by clacking sticks together you could thwart off bears while we were stuck in the woods.  You believed us and went about to keep us safe until Albus came upon you and informed you of our misdeed."  She shut her eyes briefly and sighed.  When she reopened them, Severus was still staring at her.  She shivered and wrapped her arms around her, thinking of what it would feel like to be wrapped in Severus' warm embrace.  Not that it would likely happen anymore, she told herself.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said softly, blinking back the sad moisture in her eyes.  Hermione turned and walked out of their makeshift campsite they were using for the night.  She sat in the clearing just outside of their group and looked up to the stark white moon.  Maybe that man up there could send some advise her way.

~***~

Seeing her walk away so solemnly wasn't something Severus was prepared for.  He hadn't meant to make her cry.  That was his fatal flaw – never being able to bite off his acid remarks.  Such a bastard, he told himself.  

Everyone was intensely silent even that prat Wexler.  Dumbledore was giving him a challenging look and Minerva look like she wanted to strangle him.  

He realized now that his actions were extremely childish.  She may have deserved a prank in kind, but she didn't deserve his torment.  Revenge wasn't so sweet anymore.  What to do?  Let her calm down or go after her?


	5. Misery Loves Company

[Misery Loves Company]

Stunned he sat there with all eyes on him and hating it.  He'd never been one to like attention drawn to him.  When he looked up, normally overfriendly and sickeningly pleasant, Philius Flitwick was charging towards him.  _Bugger_.  He was in for a talking to.

"Philius," Severus muttered in resignation.

"Severus, do you know what subject I teach?"

Confusion and then irritation passed trough Severus' eyes.  There must be a point somewhere in this verbal meandering, but one could never now with Flitwick.  He does have a penchant for eccentricities.  Could one really expect a meaningful conversation from a man that wears a pink bathing cap with yellow plastic daisies during his bathing ritual?

Severus frowned.  "I should hope so.  Considering I spent seven years in a desk flicking my wand about for your critical eye.  And another dozen or so in staff meetings listening to you go on about your treatise of a syllabus."

Flitwick's stern face cracked a little.  "You never were one for wand-waving, were you?"

"No, I suppose I wasn't," Severus conceded less harshly.  _Respect your elders, Severus.  Respect your elders._  "Not to be short with you, but is there a point to this line of questioning?"

"My point, Severus, is that if you don't go after her you will find out just how different second year curriculum was during my schooling days."

Ha!  The loophole he needed.  Now what did he learn up until _his_ second year that would be useful to put Wexler in his place?

"Severus!"  Flitwick squeaked impatiently.

"Oh, yes, sorry."

"You do know that she has yet to complete the tenure ritual.  The purpose of this little jaunt in the woods was to make sure that Hogwarts was what she wanted."

He'd forgotten that.  He had completed the ritual so long ago.  Never before did he consider Philius' unsaid implications – what if she left?"

"I'm sorry, Philius," he said hurriedly collecting himself.  "I must go."

"That's my boy, Severus."  Flitwick smiled as Severus swept off after Hermione.

Sitting under the rays of pale moonlight Hermione forgot how long she had been sitting there – seconds, minutes, hours.  It felt like days.  Maybe it wasn't too late to take the job Arthur Weasley had offered, she asked herself.  But that wasn't her dream.  Was her dream worth this unbearable sinking feeling?  Under the stark moon she vowed to herself she wouldn't make a mistake like this again.  She'd keep her lips and feelings safely guarded and focus on her students.  Just absolutely no more kissing.

A rustling of dried leaves to her left gave her a small start.  She lacked the energy to lift her head to find out who the unwelcome visitor was, not caring if it were friend or foe.

Black shoes.  Black robes.  Hope flooded her.

"Severus?"  Hermione whispered, glittering eyes lifting up the figure.

"Sorry to disappoint my dear."

Absently she chided herself.  The flannel dressing gown beneath the robes should have tipped her off.  Already she was ready to throw out the promises she made to herself moments before.

"Oh, no, Albus…" she started with a rush still getting used to addressing the headmaster as anything other than that.  Add the extra embarrassment of the evening and she was closely on the verge of burying her head in some comforting, warm sand and never showing her face again.

"I know what you were meaning."

"I've made a bit of a mess of things, haven't I?"

"Nothing that won't work itself out."

"Made such a fool of myself and Severus."

"No you haven't.  Severus is a bit temperamental."  Hermione laughed sadly.  Bit.  That's like saying the catacombs are a tad old or the sun a smidge warm.  "You just need to have a little more patience with him.  He's never had an easy life, Hermione, and isn't used to having someone take interest in him for unselfish reasons.  And I daresay anyone has every tried to play a joke on him.  He's set in his ways and will need more time to come around."

Hermione nodded, drawing her knees up to her chest, resting her head and arms on them.

"Think about that for a little before you make any decisions.  I'll leave you to your thoughts, but don't say away for too long.  It mightn't be safe out here."

"Thank you, Albus," she murmured as he took his leave.

She let her eyes fall shut as sleepiness niggled her brain.  The bone chilling cold could not stop impending sleep from taking over.

His heart stopped when he saw her sitting in the twilight.  She was an artist's dream in startling reality – a vision of an angel resting from a trying day.  The tremor of a shiver broke his reverie and he took notice of how cold the night had become.  She'd catch herself a death of cold.

He unclasped his cloak and shrouded it around her small form, enveloping her in warm wool.  He hoisted her slight body into his arms and she stirred only momentarily before tucking her head close to his shoulder.

When he had carried her back to the temporary campsite everyone else had gone to sleep.  He settled her into the sleeping bag that Minerva and Albus had transfigured.  Her head stirred from the pillow and she called out a name.  Not his name.

"Jude."  His back stiffened and the close proximity was stifling.  This was probably his penance he realized.  "I'm mad at you," she whispered, dreamily and he relaxed a little.  At least she wasn't asking him, thinking he was Jude, to stay with her.  Hermione's head slipped back down firmly on the pillow and he watched her a little longer.  His hand brushed a lock of hair from her face and she moved into his touch.

"Kiss me," she breathed against his fingers.

His lips touched hers ever so slightly.  "I wish it was I that you wanted," he said softly before leaving.

She smiled in her sleep and whispered, shortly after his departure, "Thank you, Severus."

The deeper she slept the worse her dreams became.  The day's events replayed in her sleep like a scratched record.

"I don't think I want to do this anymore, Jude.  Severus won't like this," Hermione told him, handing the sticks back to him.  He refused them, pushing them back into her hands.  

"Come on, Hermione.  Just think of it as pay back for all the times he was a miserable git in class."  

Before she could protest any further Jude had begun the game.

"You know, Hermione," Jude started out loudly enough for Severus to hear, "before I studied at Hogwarts my family lived in the States.  When I was little I was a nature scout and we went camping in the woods like these all the time."  He went on with great exaggeration.  She was only half listening as she tried to think of some sort of a way out of this mess.

"Our wilderness guide taught us a full proof plan to keep bears away.  Now I know what your thinking, Hermione, love," Hermione's ears burned with his use of affectionate language.  She didn't like it coming from him.  "Why not just use magic to keep them away?  First, we wouldn't want any muggles stumbling upon us when casting and second, the Ministry strictly forbade us from using our magic on any non-magical creatures."

"So, you do like this."  He clapped the sticks together loudly three or four times.  "Now just do what I do and we'll prevent the bears from getting close."  Hermione didn't move and Jude stepped in front of her, blocking Severus from her view.  He clapped her sticks together and proclaimed proudly, "Smashing, Hermione.  Just like a pro.  Let's start on this side."

He tugged her behind the tree and watched as Severus picked up two sticks, looking at them suspiciously before testing them.  Hermione cringed as she saw Severus walk off in the other direction – sticks in hand.

"It worked," Jude hooted wildly.  Could anyone be more juvenile?  She should have stopped Severus.  He was going to make a fool of himself and it was all her fault.  Belatedly she realized Jude was pulling her through the stretch of trees and she saw Severus confidently warding off bears.  God, she cried to herself, do something to stop him.  Immediately she took that statement back when Albus came into view and walked up to Severus.

The snippets of conversation made her sick with regret.

"What are you doing, Severus?"  Albus asked curiously.

Severus looked at the sticks in his hands and then to the headmaster.  The headmaster's eyes telling him all he needed to know.

"Not going to keep the bears away, are they?"  He asked ruefully.  Albus simply shook his head.  Hermione turned away, not being able to stand the mixed look of betrayal and anger in Severus' frown.  That was her second mistake in the last hour, because she stepped on a branch that cracked under her weight, drawing both Albus and Severus to her and Jude.  Severus' eyes flicked to her.  He turned in disgust, black robes billowing behind him.

Hermione jerked awake, dazed that she was lying in her sleeping bag.  How did I get here?  She pulled the unfamiliar black cloak with its familiar scent tighter around her like a protective shield and settled back into more pleasant dreams with the hopes that things would be better in the morning.


End file.
